


Innocent, yet Cruel

by Katology



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotions, First Time Bottoming, Heavy Angst, M/M, Men Crying, Porn With Plot, Porn is not the main focus, Topping from the Bottom, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 13:52:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18447893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katology/pseuds/Katology
Summary: All it took was a whispered name for everything to come tumbling down, and for the lies to be unfolded.Harry shouldn't have kept it a secret.





	Innocent, yet Cruel

* * *

* * *

It was a comfortably quiet night in the Slytherin common room. Twinkling stars and the cool moon radiated a soft glow that permeated throughout the green waterlogged shadows. Soft rustles of bedsheets and sleepwear was all that was able to be heard; aside from the occasional rush of the lake splashing against the glass wall.

 

Everyone was asleep. Aside from the occasional NEWT or OWL student studying almost obsessively, everyone was in their beds; dozing until the first bird chirped and the house elves were ready to serve a hearty breakfast.

 

Everyone but Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, though of course; no one knew that.

 

Silencing charms were particularly useful, especially when Tom was straddling his lover, plucking at his nipples and relishing in the soft blush traveling down his face.

 

Harry arched into Tom’s inquisitive fingers, biting his lip at every small brush of skin. He moaned into Tom's mouth as he leaned down and and captured Harry’s swollen lips.

 

Tom’s tongue mapped Harry’s in a carnal swirl, possessive fingers caressing his jawline and lovebites.  Harry gave a low moan into Tom’s mouth and dug his fingers into his dark hair.

 

“Mmm Tom…”

 

He could feel Tom smiling into his mouth, “You like that, Love?”

 

Harry’s small laugh broke into a growl as Tom playfully bit his neck, “Obviously; now can you get a move on?” He thrusted his cock onto Tom’s bare thigh desperately.

 

Tom snorted and slapped his hip playfully, “Bossy,” he teased.

 

Harry opened his mouth to reply when Tom suddenly gripped his cock with a warm, slick hand.

 

He let out a shuddering breath and thrust into Tom’s warm grip, “Oh fuck,” he keened.

 

Tom gave a fond smile and stared into Harry’s glazed eyes, “I intend to,” he said simply.

 

And then there was a small creak as Tom shifted, and a splayed hand grounded on Harry’s chest as he lowered slowly. A different kind of warmth enveloped his throbbing cock.

 

Harry gasped at the sensation and stared astonished as Tom sat himself down on Harry’s lap. He moaned desperately, raking his fingernails through Tom’s thighs.

 

“W-what?” Harry gasped, “But, but- we didn’t prepare-”

 

Tom chuckled at the stuttered statement, “I prepared for this beforehand,”

 

Tom smiled, a burning blush spreading down his chest, “Put your hands on the headboard,” he said softly. He looked uncharacteristically shy.

 

“You've- we've never done this before,” Harry whispered, bringing his arms up for Tom’s magic to bind. Ropes appeared a second later, as always, and Tom clenched around him with a mischievous smirk.

 

Harry eyes fluttered close with a groan, throwing his head back and body arching. There were slides of wet warmth now, full of the perfect friction. It was slow; almost unbearably slow. He’s never felt this before; and it made the sensations even more heady, even more arousing.

 

Tom was so _tight_ around him. Perfectly warm, perfectly smooth; it was almost like a dream. Except it was so deliciously real.

 

Harry watched Tom with lidded eyes, green staring into heated gray as Tom slowly gyrated himself on his dick.

 

He watched as Tom bit his lip and brought his elegant fingers to brush against Harry’s torso. His fingertips glided feather-light against his flushed skin before he gently pinched Harry’s nipple.

  
Ripples of excruciating pleasure filled him at that moment, all of the tightly coiled ecstasy culminating in his groin; muscles trembling and clenching with every soft thrust.

 

Tom looked absolutely gorgeous; brown, normally coiffed hair in a disarray not unlike his own. His lips were swollen and wet from the previous kiss. A beautiful flush coloring his skin in a temptingly pink color, trailing down his high cheekbones to his chest. His leaking cock was bouncing with every languid thrust and Tom was panting.

 

The image brought him closer to the precipice, the edge looming closer than ever before.

 

Harry keened desperately, tugging softly at the bonds as Tom continued to play with his nipples, thrusting harder as they both neared their release.

 

The ropes then dissipated and Tom leaned down, exhaling hotly in his ear, “Touch me,” he breathed, before giving a chaste kiss to the side of his neck.

 

Harry moaned at the order. His trembling hands, still indented with rope marks, made reach for Tom’s surely aching cock. He clenched a tight fist around it, and Tom thrusted into the grip with an almost animalistic groan.

 

There was another minute of hard, fast thrusting and slaps of flesh. A gasp permeated through the wanton sounds and Tom stilled suddenly, loudly moaning, before dissolving into faint tremors as his orgasm flashed through him white-hot. Splatters of come landed on Harry’s chest and chin.

 

Tom tightened around him almost painfully tight, and all it took was a single, minute movement of his hips before Harry also came.

 

Harry’s vision, literally, whited out in the pleasure. It tingled and spread throughout his body, before leaving nothing but a content and exhausted fog in its wake. He could _feel_ his seed shooting into Tom’s awaiting hole, and he was absolutely enthralled.

 

He thought… that maybe… just maybe… that this was what love felt like.

 

Little did he know Tom had thought the exact same thing.

 

Tom collapsed onto Harry’s chest, drying come sticking between them. But neither of them cared. Harry’s cock was slowly softening within Tom’s loosened walls. There was a soft murmur and the products of their lovemaking disappeared in an instant. Harry sighed at the sensation and closed his eyes, enjoying the wonderful afterglow.

 

Tom rose from Harry’s dick and gingerly wrapped his arms around him.

 

As Harry came back to himself, the sensations around him became more than just background noise. The body on top of him, _Tom,_ was shaking. Softly, but noticeable. His fingers were clenched tight around his waist, and he could feel a wetness beginning to form under Tom’s burrowed face.

 

Harry’s eyes furrowed and concern shot through him, unease flaring in his chest, “Tom,” he asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

All Tom did was tighten his already bruising grip. It did not bode well.

 

Harry scooted back and Tom’s head lifted, revealing trembling lips and wetted eyes. There was a pause of almost incredulous staring before Tom calmly said, “How do you deal with that?”

 

Harry knew that the calmness, was completely feigned. He guessed that Tom wanted some semblance of control. It made Harry frown, and reach out to gently run his fingers through his hair.

 

“Deal with what?” he asked softly.

 

“The emotions,” he said. The tears have almost altogether disappeared from this face, but the tracks were still there.

 

Harry felt a wave of sadness go through him at the statement, and he whispered, “Your emotions aren’t something you have to hide,”

 

“Usually,” he amended when Tom gave an incredulous look, “It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human,”

 

“And,” he hesitated, staring at Tom’s prompting face, “I don’t deal with it; healthily, I might add. Generally, I ignore all the bad emotions and hope that the cause of them will go away; and I hoard all the good ones,”

 

Tom quirked a small smile, “Isn’t that what we all do?”

 

Harry frowned, fingers pausing in their exploration before continuing to brush through Tom’s soft locks, “I have no idea,” he admitted.

 

* * *

 

It was the soft snore of his love that awoke Tom Riddle from his slumber. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly, eyebrows furrowing sleepily; before he went on his side to observe the origin of the noises.

 

Harry was… more youthful without his glasses. It was like the burdens placed on him were gone. Completely vanished.

 

Tom smiled slightly at the innocent figure Harry made, and brushed a piece of his dark hair out of his eyes. His long eyelashes were stark against his pale cheeks, mouth open slightly with sleep.

 

He was beautiful, no matter how he looked; asleep, in the throes of an orgasm, or when he would be frustrated after a quiz.

 

He could still feel him, the almost aching emptiness in his hole. It was sore, yes, but it was also a reminder of what had occurred. If this is what Harry feels… he understands now why he always seems insatiable. It was nothing short of intoxicating.

 

The sight of him made his heart reduce into frantic palpitations, the fluttering of a hummingbird's wings. It was strange; the depths of emotions evoked from just a simple glance, chaste yet sinful at once.

 

He had once sneered openly at this kind of affection, _love,_ but now he knew better. It was a weakness, perhaps. But it was worth it. To have Harry in his arms was a miracle in and of itself.

 

Tom has no idea how he had obtained the possession of this beautiful creature. He truthfully doesn't understand, it doesn't compute.

 

Maybe because someone of his disposition… really cannot _be_ with someone as light as Harry. Sure, all it would take was a precisely meticulous mask, covering his true nature; he knew how to do that, it was certain. It was as easily as breathing for someone like him.

 

For someone who has to _pretend_ so they would not be ostracized by society. A dark presence that put everyone at unease unless they could cloak it with bits and pieces of light he would scavenge from those purer.

 

Tom learns from others. Learns what emotions are appropriate for certain situations.

 

Mourning: The appropriate mask would be a good amount of sadness, not enough to look destabilizing; but enough for people to feel a certain camaraderie. That they were not alone in the supposedly crushing sadness that comes from losing someone. Though, he thought wryly, they are alone in that respect.

 

Modesty: Tom knew that despite the image he portrayed, he was better than everyone else. It was not a surge of narcissism, but rather the understanding of the placid minds surrounding him. Arrogance is not attractive to most people. Even if, frankly, it was not arrogance if it was founded, the people he wants to bring to his side would _not_ follow him. Those who tend to have much power ever since they were young, tend to have much higher egos than that of others. And they are susceptible to the other, much _higher_ egos; for they feel that they are undermining _their_ wealth and _their_ power and _their_ achievements.

 

He knew that this public image was fake. Aside from the very real thirst of knowledge, he was as fraudulent as Dumbledore’s speeches of house equality.

 

Though… Harry knew him the best out of everyone. It felt horribly wrong to hide himself like that from him and the thought almost made him sick.

 

He knew who he was really, and he _stayed_ despite it all. Harry loved him the more for it. He was special and wonderful, and Tom adored him.

 

His chest felt horribly warm, clenching with the almost obsessive need to cuddle and to kiss every inch of Harry; to make those beautiful eyes soften and for his lips to curve into a smile.

 

Tom broke out of his reverie, a small whimper coming out of Harry’s slack mouth.

 

A small hitch of worry cascaded down him, as it always did when he had a nightmare. Tom watched as Harry’s eyebrows puckered and he unconsciously grimaced, shuddering before his hold of Tom’s arm tightened.

 

Tom can see the faint line of sweat start to drip down his temples, body trembling even further at the surely horrific dream ravaging his beloved. He could tell that this one will be one of the.. harsher ones.

 

It was always heart-wracking to watch Harry, the strongest person he had ever known, to succumb to the terrors of his mind. Harry has never delved into the exacts of his nightmares. He knows the basics; what had happened to him to bring about their inclusion in his dreams. Though, he hasn't told him the details. 

 

And to come to think of it, he understands; for he hasn't told Harry the entirety of the reasons for _his_ nightmares. 

 

He has never told Harry the specifics of the occasional horrors of the orphanage and the... the Slytherin students who decided to teach the _mudblood_ a lesson a few days after his sorting.

 

He has alluded to it, yes, but he has never overtly stated that such a thing still haunts him the way that it does. 

 

Even so, he still wishes that Harry would tell him how he could help. He hates feeling this helpless. He abhors watching Harry deteriorate in what is supposed to be peace.

 

There was a bitten of shout that (thankfully) was cloaked by the silencing charm, and Tom had enough at his beloved’s suffering. He could feel the half-mooned crescents that were formed underneath Harry’s biting fingernails.

 

“Harry?” he whispered, gently shaking his shoulders as he straddled him, “Wake up- it’s just a dream precious, you’re alright,”

 

All he did was curl in on himself and whisper something faint, though not faint enough, however; and it chilled him to his core.

 

_“Voldemort,”_

 

He has _never_ told Harry of his old, idiotic plans to become a Dark Lord, and he’s certainly _never_ told him that it was even the name he would’ve went by.

 

A sense of foreboding washed over him like the waves of the ocean; salty, and aggravating any _fresh_ wounds one may have.

 

It was a sudden moment, and Harry’s beautiful green eyes flew open, glassy with fear. He inhaled shakily and brought his empty gaze (slowly growing more aware by the second) to Tom’s troubled one.

 

Harry blushed a bright red and ducked his head, “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He looked at Tom sheepishly, “I’m assuming that I woke you up,”

 

“You don’t have to say sorry,” Tom said distractedly.

 

Harry shrugged, “Still, I woke you up- well my nightmares did anyway, and that’s the same thing-”

  
  
Tom didn’t reply and bored his eyes into Harry’s, head tilting as if he was solving a difficult problem.  There was a small purse in his lips as he began speaking with a frown.

 

“Harry, in your sleep… you said something that could use a little explaining,”

  
  
Harry tensed and turned pale. It was telling and no small amount of anger boiled in his core.

 

“You said ‘Voldemort.’ You have no prior knowledge of this name, and yet you’ve said it in your sleep,” he paused, watching as a grief-stricken look overcame Harry’s face, “How do you know?” he demanded harshly.

 

A tear trailed down Harry’s cheek and his lips quivered, he swallowed and rasped, “This does not change how I feel about you. At all, Tom-” he desperately grabbed his hand, staring into those hardened eyes, “I love you, and I won’t ever stop loving you,”

 

“That's… what aren’t you telling me?”

 

Harry cringed and said, “I was born in 1980,”

 

Tom’s face blanked and he said flatly, “You were born in 1980,”

 

“Yeah,”

 

There was a small silence before Tom spoke even more coldly, “You’ve time traveled,”

 

Harry nodded, and opened his mouth to say something but Tom incredulously said, “You _told_ me that Grindelwald killed your family; and yet he was defeated a few weeks ago. Did he escape Nurmengard?”

 

Harry let out a sob, “I’m sorry,” he whispered in a small voice.

 

“For lying to me? You could’ve told me from the beginning-”

  
  
Tom stopped abruptly, and Harry knew he has figured it out.

  
Harry wished that he could found out _differently._ It was selfish, extremely selfish. He probably would of told him.. later (never) about what happened. About why he had time traveled in the first place. To kill the boy who had became Voldemort…

 

Except, he fell in love against all odds. Fate must surely be laughing at his expense.

 

“You said _Voldemort,_ ” Tom breathed, skin pale and eyes wide in horror, “You said… what I could have become,”

 

His eyes became full of tears, and it seemed that it was only due to sheer stubbornness alone that they didn’t fall, “Please,” he said desperately, “ _Please_ tell me I’m wrong, Harry,”

 

Harry didn’t say anything, he just stared at his lap, frozen still.

 

“Oh dear gods,” Tom choked out, scrambling back away from Harry, “I… I am… I- _Harry_ ,”

  
  
Harry looked up at that, and reached out, “No-”

 

“ _Don’t touch me_!” Tom screamed.

 

Harry startled, tears flowing down both of their cheeks, “I tried to murder you. I murdered your family. My… my _followers_ killed your godfather and your godson’s parents- I… I became the _monster_ in your nightmares,”

  
  
“ _No-”_

 

 _“TELL ME I DID NOT DO THAT!”_ Tom yelled, chin quivering and a tear dripping from his jaw.

 

“You didn’t,” Harry said firmly, his heart breaking, “You didn’t- not yet, and if I have anything to say about it; you never will,”

 

Tom’s gaze shuttered, “That’s why you traveled back in time, to make sure I don’t become a Dark Lord,”

 

Harry winced at the accusation. The truth was worse, so much worse, “No,” Harry whispered, “In the beginning, that wasn’t my goal,”

 

Tom’s eyes were blown even wider, “Were you going to kill me?” he breathed.

 

There was a tense pause before Harry spoke hesitantly, “Yes, but Tom-”

 

Tom let out a startled laugh, harsh and biting, “Why didn’t you? I would’ve killed you in a _heartbeat_ if I was in your situation,”

 

“Because I fell in love with you, Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Harry said, eyes begging to be understood, “I _love_ you. And even then, that’s not why I didn’t end up… doing _that,”_

 

“I found a child, albeit a cruel and misguided one, but a _child_ nonetheless. You aren’t innocent, but you don’t deserve to be _killed_ ,”

 

“I suppose I should thank you then, for pitying me enough to spare me,” Tom spat.

 

“I didn’t pity you,” Harry snapped, “You of all people should know that, there is _nothing_ about you that deserves pity. You are the strongest person I know,”

 

Tom frowned as another tear trailed down his face, “But how could you fall in love with me?” he said, not unlike a small child, “Even if I didn’t do anything yet, I would still be the one who would end up destroying your childhood and your life,”

  
  
“Because I see _you_ ; Not some deluded Dark Lord, or an evil, irredeemable child, I see _you._

 

 _“_ Your would-have-been past has no bearings on right now,” Harry said firmly, hands reaching out to clasp Tom’s in a reassuring manner, “I see the man who helped me with potions homework, I see the man who showed me the Chamber of Secrets as a date. You’ve helped me through numerous panic attacks, given me a cupcake on my birthday… you- you are _everything_ to me,”

 

Harry hesitantly wrapped his arms around Tom’s shaking figure. He relaxed when Tom seemed to melt into the embrace, though what happened next shook his very foundations.

 

He could’ve cried when Tom let out a wet hiccup against his hair, sobbing uncontrollably, a litany of _I'm sorry_ ’s escaping his lips.

 

Harry rubbed his back soothingly and shushed him, “It’s alright, it’s alright,”

 

“It’s going to be alright, love,”

 

**Author's Note:**

> angst. aaaangst. aaannnnggggssttt.
> 
> I'm so sorry :((
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> ~Katelynn Irene Lovegood


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